Our beautiful death
by AWanderingSoulSometimesLost
Summary: AU. When Klaus Mikaelson first saw Aurora de Martel, she only saw the man standing next to him. Idea by Dante 101. Inspired by the song 'Our beautiful death' by Loyal enemy. I don't own anything.


**Hi, does anyone still remember the Trinity? (I spent the entire season 4 hoping we'd see at least one of them, because it desperately needed something to make the show entertaining to watch again (at least in my opinion, which no-one really asked for), but nope). You probably do, if you've clicked on this story. Good to know there are other people who miss them as much as I do.**

 ** _Dante 101_ gets the credit for the idea for this story. I just toyed with it a little bit. Just to avoid any confusion, this is an AU where Aurora doesn't fall for Klaus while the Mikaelsons live at de Martel estate because she's in love with Lucien. But things happen and they end up... well, read the story and you'll see.  
**

 **I can't promise a happy ending (or 100% correct spelling and grammar). I apologize.**

 **Done rambling now. I hope you'll like the story.**

"' _The lady Aurora doesn't need teeth to tear a man's soul out. One needs only stare in her eyes and be lost._ '"

Her bright giggle pulsated through his chest like a second heartbeat (or a third one, since her heart belonged to him, as did his to her). Her fingers gently intertwined with his, which were already entangled in the soft red locks of her hair, and pulled his hand towards her lips. Her kiss was tender and loving; so light and warm even sunlight paled in comparison.

"Is that what you told him?" She asked in amusement, adding another set of lines to his palm, lines only her eyes could see. "Am I truly so cruel?"

He left her to her game; he had other tasks to attend to.

"You are to me, my love." His lips brushed against her back, against her neck, against her jaw; he had kissed every part of her there was and yet he always longed for more. "You are cruel to no-one the way you are cruel to me."

She giggled again, pressing even closer against him, even if they couldn't possibly be closer than they already were. They were lying naked in her bed, covered only in weak moonlight, stealing what little time they could to confess their love for each other again and again. Her back were pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace she wished she could always carry on her, like a second skin. His touch was not always as gentle; scars his nails had left marked her as his. She had left marks of her own as well, red like blood that burned in her veins under his touch. She melted in his arms like wax as he made love to her, whispering her name like it was the only word he knew.

"One might think you do not love me at all." He murmured playfully in between kisses, breathing in deeply. Her skin was sweeter than honey, softer than silk.

She finally turned around to look at him, throwing her leg over his so she now knelt in front of him, her knees resting on each side of his thighs. She pressed her palm against his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath the skin. It beat for her, only for her.

"Must I repeat myself over and over again for you to believe me?" She raised her eyes to his, her other hand removing one of the brown locks that hid his face from her gaze. She could barely discern his features in the weak light, but it hardly mattered; she had long since memorized them by heart.

He took her hand into his, smirking devilishly as he placed another kiss on her palm.

"I do believe you," He said teasingly, "I just like to hear you say it."

Instantly, she captured his lips with hers. His nails ran sharply into her waist; she moaned into his mouth, pain intertwining mercilessly with pleasure. But revenge was hers; her body rocked against his, making him groan lowly, like a wild animal she made him be. Her fingers danced among the brown locks of his hair, tugging at them fiercely, until their lips separated and he was forced to look up at her, the queen of his heart, the goddess he worshipped unfalteringly.

"Have I made myself clear, Lucien?" She tried to sound strict, but an adoring smile escaped her lips. She was more beautiful than heaven itself, her eyes dark with desire and sparking with love.

His hands cupped the back of her head and pulled her towards him firmly, lips to lips, teeth to teeth, tongue to tongue. The kiss left her breathless and flushed, making him grin; he absolutely adored it.

"Perfectly clear, my lady."

* * *

"Lady Aurora?"

Tears froze in her eyes, but there was no way to hide them, no way to hide her swollen eyes. The silence that followed the words echoed uncomfortably loudly in her ears, even if it lasted only for a moment – a moment as long as a lifetime. Then her heart started thundering again, robbing her of breath. Her hands were shaking feverishly, her abdomen beneath them too. Her head ached, black spots dancing before her watered eyes. She tried again to stifle the tears, but her efforts were in vain.

How far had her sobs reached? How many knew of her tears? How long would it be before her secret was discovered and so many lives ruined?

"My lady, please." Klaus took Aurora's soaked hands into his gently, seating himself next to her. He knew he should under no circumstances be in her chambers, but he would be damned (incomparably more than he already was) if he left her there alone, with her tears threatening to flood the castle.

Aurora raised her head slowly, like the entire world was a burden she carried on her shoulders. Her body felt like a sand castle about to collapse, weakened by the never-ending wave of sobs. She was cold and hot at the same time, edgy and numb, dead and alive. All she wanted was comfort, a reassurance that her worst fears wouldn't come true, but it was out of her reach. The man next to her wasn't the man she wanted to see, his wasn't the voice she wanted to hear.

Instead of Lucien, the man sitting next to her was Lord Niklaus.

"Please, Lord Niklaus," She removed her hands from his and tried fruitlessly to wipe the tears away from her face. She dreaded his compassion, the questions she knew he would inevitably ask. "You must leave at once. You cannot be here."

"Not until you tell me what troubles you, my lady." He countered gently, but firmly.

He didn't want to scare her or scar her (clearly she already bore one too many scars), so the fury her sorrow awoke within him had to at all costs be kept at bay. He couldn't be the beast here, not now, not with her. Her sweet light, even if diminished, kept the man in control. But even the man swore, upon everything he held dear, he would find whoever had dared ruin her happiness and make them regret ever being born.

A sob bubbled out of her throat before she could stop it; she despised herself for crying in front of him. Father hated it when she cried; he said she was a disgrace to de Martel name. Tristan always got that furious look in his eyes when she cried, a look that scared her senseless, even though it had never been directed at her. He had sworn he had never been nor he ever would be angry with her, but she was afraid of his rage anyway. What would happen when he found out about her secret? He would hate her, he would disown her. She would be his sister – his love – his Rory – no longer.

"Lady Aurora." Klaus called her name again, hoping she could hear him through her sniffs.

She made as if to stand up, but Klaus' hands wrapped around her forearms instantly, keeping her next to him. Her eyes finally met his; they were wide and desperate, a frightened child watching him through them. His own heart started beating wildly; what could he do to comfort this beautiful young woman, who had been capturing his heart piece by piece every day since he had met her?

"I cannot help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." He reasoned, but kept his hands on her. He couldn't bring himself to let her go, not after having longed for her touch for months.

The refusal in her eyes hurt more than death itself. (He ought to know.)

"Please, leave." She begged desperately, her lips trembling as she whispered: "Please."

Klaus had long since lost count of people he had killed in his hunger for blood. His mother's face still haunted his dreams sometimes, those rare few that were free of Mikael's. Yet he had never felt more a monster than at that moment. Despite her pleas, in his selfishness, he remained persistent. If he took her pain away, he mused in a despairing hope, wouldn't that make him less of a monster?

"Tell me." He asked, gently, but unyieldingly, not taking his eyes off hers.

Aurora sensed her defences crumbling into dust; she fell more than leaned into him, brushing her teary eyes against his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her; they felt so – _wrong_. He pulled her closer, listening to the sweet song that was her heartbeat, the waves of blood coursing through her veins. His own lip started bleeding, pierced by his freed fangs. He craved her very _life_ ; he was holding it in his hands, just like he was holding her, the one every fibre of his being yearned for.

Her hand came to rest on his, pacifying the beast within him with one simple touch. It made him desire her even more, as he relished in the feeling of her skin against his. She wanted to push him away, to escape his embrace, but her strength had abandoned her, leaving her at the mercy of his words. They rang deafeningly in her ears, forcing her lips to move until the truth started playing on them.

"I…" She sobbed and cried, trying to fight the words she didn't wish to utter, but she heard them echoing the room all the same. "I… I am with child."

He heard her heart skip a beat. She felt his body stiffen against hers.

 _She loves someone else. She is carrying that man's child._

 _How could have she told him?_ _ **How could she?**_

 _Are all his hopes in vain? How can he find a place in her heart, if he must compete with both father and child?_

 _He surely thinks her a whore. He will tell Father, who will tell Tristan. Father will have her banished from home, if he lets her live at all; not even Tristan's love (if it even survives this trial) will be enough to change his mind._

"You cannot tell anyone." She murmured against his chest, desperate for his understanding. If she didn't fix the damage she'd caused, Lucien would… "Please, Lord Niklaus, do not tell anyone."

"You have my word." He promised softly; her breath of relief tickled his skin pleasantly. But her heart still pounded wildly, as did his – their anxiety was far from gone. "But you cannot hide it forever."

He was right and she knew it. But what could she do? How could she protect Lucien's child from the world that would do it harm? How could she shield the man she loved from her family's wrath? They would never allow her to marry a servant; Father would rather bury their bodies, along with the shame their love would bring to de Martel name, under many layers of dirt. Tristan loved her too much to take her life, but Lucien and her child – they meant nothing to him.

Her eyes were distant; two dark, deep oceans – she probably wasn't even aware of the words she had uttered, but he offered an answer nonetheless.

"You can marry _me_."

Aurora's head snapped up abruptly, her eyes desperately looking for his. She must be thinking she had heard him wrong. But Klaus really had uttered – and meant – those words.

"Nobody needs to know your child is not mine." He placed a hand on her cheek gently, wiping one shiny tear away, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will keep you, and your child, safe."

 _If you agree to be mine._ He added wordlessly. Klaus Mikaelson was many things, but selfless was not one of them. He wanted her, all of her.

She believed him, naturally and easy as breathing, without questions, without worries. He would keep her and her child safe. Father and Tristan would never know what had truly happened.

But Lucien…

"And what of…"

His eyes darkened instantly; she hesitated. Klaus didn't want to talk of _him_. He didn't care who _he_ was. After some time, Aurora's love for him would fade and Klaus would take his place. The child was partially hers; he wasn't cruel enough to separate her from it (he was neither Esther nor Mikael) – but its father was no concern of Klaus'.

She would beg if she had to; she would do _anything_.

The silence lasted for a long, long time, until he broke it – and their hearts with it. Different blood ran through his veins, but at the end of the day, he was Mikael's son.

"Do you think you could ever love me?" He asked. _Like you love him?_

The answer lay there in her eyes.

 _Do you think_ _ **you**_ _could ever love me? Like_ _ **he**_ _loves me?_

He could try. He could try to be a better man than Mikael.

She could try too, but she didn't want to. Her heart was already given, already promised. She loved Lucien, only Lucien.

But, nine moons from now, how many would she love? Had her mother loved her, in those final moments before the end? Had she begged the physician to save her daughter, even at the cost of her own life? Wasn't love of a mother unconditional, unbreakable?

Was it stronger than her love for Lucien? Was it worth breaking his heart? Was it worth breaking her own?

The deed itself seemed to be done so effortlessly.

Aurora's lips met Klaus' hand, because no words could describe what she felt. A wide smile graced his lips, setting his eyes ablaze. .

"Does this mean you accept my offer?" He knelt before her, her knight in shining armour, and took her hands into his. They rested in her lap, just beneath her belly, close, so very close to her child.

With all of her heart, she wanted to refuse him, but she didn't get the chance.

"Someone's coming." He jumped onto his feet, his sensitive hearing picking up the sound of steps coming closer.

His hands cupped her cheeks and he placed a tender kiss on her forehead, before his eyes returned to hers.

"Speak to no-one of this." He said urgently. He knew enough about court life now to recognize the danger of being caught inside a lady's chambers. His family would be banished for his indiscretion; Elijah, and Rebekah especially, would never forgive him for that. "I will take care of everything. Trust me."

She did, so easily. (As though she truly loved him.)

* * *

"Do you love him?"

Aurora couldn't even pretend Lucien's presence had startled her. He could tell she had expected to find him there upon her arrival – what he couldn't tell was whether the thought hurt or healed.

How long had he been waiting for her in her chambers? For how long had he suffered alone, without anyone – without _her_ – to comfort him? It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since the announcement had been made, yet each one had felt like a lifetime in his mind. She had been expecting this moment – _dreading_ this moment – for longer than she had thought she could endure, but here she was, alive and well, facing the man she loved, who had just found out she was engaged to someone else.

His eyes were tainted with tears; her lips trembled with need to kiss them away. She wanted to hold him, his hands, his face, she wanted to swear she was his and she would always be his and no-one else's. His heart was hers; she could do whatever she pleased with it, even break it. He had known the risks when he let her conquer his entire world; he had known, but chosen to close his eyes to the truth. He'd chosen shadows. He'd chosen death. He'd chosen loving her.

She must know no-one would ever love her as truly and as deeply as he did.

"I love _you_." She promised.

Despite his better judgement, despite his broken heart, he couldn't call her a liar. He had loved her for so long, he still did; and in his love, he believed her.

"Why are you marrying him then?" He tasted salt on his tongue; blood or tears, it didn't even matter. His pain was uncontainable; he was barely aware of the words he was saying, he was shouting. "Why did you accept his offer?"

She wanted to tell him, of her love, of their love, of their child. She wanted to speak until her lips became dry and she collapsed in exhaustion. She would do anything to convince him that she loved him more than life itself, more than the life that grew within her. It was because of that love that Lady Aurora de Martel would wed Lord Niklaus de Guise in a week's time at de Martel estate. Her love was steadfast and unbreakable. Her heart hadn't betrayed him.

But her lips betrayed her now, because she couldn't shape the words, couldn't tell him about their child. He watched her lips brush against one another as her mouth opened and closed, every move feeling like a knife run into his abdomen. Was this about his low station? Was this her way of telling him he could never be good enough for her, no matter how much he loved her? Was that why she would marry another man, a bloodthirsty beast in disguise? She didn't even know of it; what would happen when Niklaus pressed his lips against her neck, only to tear it open with his long, cruel teeth?

"Why, Aurora?" He yelled, lost among so many things he wanted to say, each filled with consuming despair. He had to know he wasn't alone in his pain. His cry was a cry of a broken man, a man who had bet everything in his possession and gambled it all away. "Why?"

"Lucien…" She meant to ask him to speak quietly, but how could she ask that of him when it was her that was too quiet? What was keeping her from uttering the words? Why must she cause pain wherever she went, to the ones she cared for the most?

"Why?!" The ground shook beneath his feet; for a moment, he just wanted it to end, he just wanted to _die_.

"Aurora!"

She froze at the spot, her heart pounding painfully in absolute panic that overwhelmed her. Before she could utter a single word of warning, the door burst open, revealing the face of her brother. Tristan marched into the room like Julius Caesar crossing over the Rubicon River, ready for battle to death. His sapphire eyes flickered from Aurora to Lucien and back, wide with shock and disapproval.

"You." His gaze finally stopped on Lucien, whose face was completely drained of blood. His hands shook in a fear so consuming he barely kept himself on his feet, his body and mind feeling as if made of stone.

"Tristan, please." Aurora reached hesitatingly for her brother's hand, dreading the murderous look she saw in his eyes. She knew Tristan's love for her was unbreakable, but also merciless. If she didn't intervene, Lucien wouldn't survive the night. "Let me explain…"

"Guards!" Tristan cut her off coldly, glaring at Lucien ruthlessly. His fingers itched with the lack of whip in his hand, but it was for the best that he was empty-handed at the moment. The sight he had in mind wasn't for Aurora's eyes.

Lucien stared at de Martel siblings, robbed of every bit of strength and every wit. He held his breath, frozen in fear, but he couldn't bring himself to run. He had never felt so helpless, not even when he had met the Mikaelsons. He had cheated death then, but it had come to claim him again, wearing the face of the other most important person in Aurora's life.

Tristan didn't take his eyes off him, as if he might disappear if he looked away for a single moment. He registered Aurora's pleads for the servant boy's life, but they seemed as if coming from far away and he didn't really hear them. Two guards grabbed Lucien's arms and led him out of Aurora's chambers; he was so frightened he barely resisted. Tristan's lip curled in disdain, but he also felt eagerness taking roots in his mind. The servant boy would deeply regret his insolence; not only had he dared touch Aurora with his dirty, unworthy hands, but he had also raised his voice at her. He would repay his audacity in blood and screams, until he had no blood to spill and no breath left in his body.

"Tristan, please!" Aurora's throat ached with screams and tears. "Let him go, please, let him go!"

Tristan finally turned towards her; his eyes were so dark she immediately let go of his arm.

"What do you think your betrothed would think of you if he knew of this?" Tristan was by no means fond of Niklaus de Guise, but he had to silence Aurora's protests, which were louder and more deeply involved than they should be. Then again, his sister was the epitome of mercy and compassion – and she suffered so much because of it. He had to approach the matter gently; her innocence must not be tainted. "This is not your fault, Aurora. Let me go and I will take care of everything."

Her grip on him tightened, her eyes wide open in a silent plead for mercy. She loved her brother and trusted him with her life, but how could she trust him with Lucien's? Tristan forced a smile to reassure her, even if he had no intention of acquiescing to her begging. But his sweet sister didn't need to know of the events that would follow; she would sleep more peacefully at night in the blissful embrace of ignorance.

"Go to bed, my love." His lips brushed her forehead; his words and gesture reminded her so much of her betrothed – the man she didn't love, but would soon belong to – that she barely held back another wave of tears. "It's been a long day."

He removed her hand from his forearm and left the room, closing the door before she could follow him or even say anything. The sound of door being locked reached her ears, crushing the last shaking remains of her hope. Deep down, she knew she would never see Lucien again. Not in this life.

Her skin burned as if hell's fire was coursing through her veins. She choked on each breath, as if she was drowning deep under the water and there was no sunlight above her head. Her skin was covered in gooseflesh, but she felt warm – too warm – like a flame about to burn out. Her very bones ached, her body a prison that could no longer contain her. Her mind was filled with screams – the voices sounded so much like Lucien.

Wind rushed to her face, bringing momentary relief, but it wasn't long before she was burning again with pain that grasped her body like a possessive lover. She didn't even know how or when her legs had carried her to the window, but neither did she care. Looking down at the gardens beneath her feet, one jump away, only a death far, she was taken back to another, long gone night. It was the night of her seventeenth name-day, when she had stood at another window, even closer to the stars and even further from the ground. Her demons would have been silenced that night forever – if not for one young servant boy who had been so desperate to prevent her from leaving this world behind that he had unintentionally professed the forbidden affections he held for her.

" _Someone once said it was easy to love 'because'." Lucien said softly. "It is loving 'despite' that's challenging. I believe the same can be said for living."_

" _Can you do that, Lucien?" Aurora only registered her lips shaping words when they were already said. "Can you love me 'despite'?"_

" _Can you live 'despite', my lady?" He countered at once, completely certain of his own answer._

" _I don't think so." His face fell, as if all his dreams had been shattered. But there was a glimmer of hope she could offer, or better said – return; in his eyes, it was as if she had taken the stars off the sky, their light as bright as her smile. "But if I have your love, as you say I do, I might be convinced to live 'because'."_

" _You do, my lady." He took his hand into hers; she didn't push him away. "I love you, both because and despite."_

" _Then I shall live, both because and despite."_

She put one foot onto the window. Two stone columns on each side helped her keep her balance – a few more moments and she wouldn't need it anymore.

She couldn't live despite Lucien's death.

The other foot joined the first one. Wind nibbled at her skin as she leaned forward, staring into the black abyss beneath her feet.

She couldn't live, not even for her child.

"Lady Aurora!"

She didn't even have to turn around to recognize the voice. It was Lady Rebekah, her would-have-been sister-in-law.

She made a step forward, yet she landed on her back, far too soon.

"You foolish girl!" Lady Rebekah knelt next to her, her blue eyes wide with worry. "What came over you?"

"Let me go." Aurora whispered through tears that had, unasked for, started falling down her cheeks again. "Please, let me go." _Let me die._

Rebekah stared at the woman who had captured her favourite brother's heart in utter bewilderment, for she couldn't imagine why anyone would reject Niklaus. He was kind and caring, not the least attractive of her brothers, and completely in love with Aurora. Why would she reject all he had to offer her, by taking her own life at that?

"Lady Aurora, please," She pleaded, placing her hands on Aurora's in a gesture of concern, "Talk to me. What troubles you?"

"I can't." Aurora shook his head, her tears soaking both ladies' dresses. She had travelled down this path before, with Niklaus, and it had brought nothing but pain. "Please, don't ask."

"How will I not?" Rebekah demanded helplessly, a sentiment she hadn't felt since… _since she'd been human_. It terrified her, as if she was the one in need of comfort. "Are we not to be sisters?"

Aurora let out a sob even more heartbroken, because she had truly grown to love Niklaus' sister. Having been surrounded by men all their lives, the two women had found they had much in common and a good friend in each other. It was easy to laugh with Rebekah, to talk to her, to play games with her. To call her sister would bring Aurora vast joy – if only it didn't demand of her to renounce the man she loved. If only it was Tristan marrying Rebekah, while she could proudly announce her love for Lucien to the world, without the fear of Father's wrath or anyone's disapproval. If only the world was so ideal, like in tales and songs.

"Aurora, listen to me, please."

Lady Rebekah's beseech was so honest and desperate that Aurora couldn't find it in herself to deny it. She raised her head slowly, green eyes meeting blue.

"I see you are in great pain and I won't inflict more upon you by asking you to speak to me about it." Rebekah wished with all of her heart she could erase that pain, but it wasn't within reach even of her inhuman powers. "But I beg you, for my brother's sake and my own, do not abandon him. It would break his heart."

Lady Rebekah's words settled within Aurora's mind, like one falling into a bed after a long day. But the bed somehow didn't fit, not as comfortable and warm as it should be. Still, she needed rest, she needed peace – and she would sleep in the most uncomfortable bed if it meant sleep _would_ come, even if her dreams would be unfamiliar, like they weren't even her own.

She wouldn't abandon Niklaus, of course she wouldn't. One whole heart would have to suffice for both of them.

"Aurora?" Rebekah called the other woman's name hesitatingly. She hadn't said a word for what seemed like ages; had she changed her mind?

"I…" Aurora struggled to find the right words; she thought of Lucien, yet her lips shaped a different name. "I… I will not abandon Niklaus."

Rebekah's lips shaped a smile so wide her cheeks hurt. She let out a breath of relief and joy; Niklaus' new bride, whatever might trouble her, had chosen her brother over her fears. She loved him enough – for now.

"Thank you." Lady Rebekah took Aurora's hands into her own and placed two gentle kisses on her knuckles, smiling a smile that would make angels swoon. Blue eyes met green again; there were now tears in both. "You will grow to love my brother as he loves you, I'm sure of it. And you will be happy with him."

She would grow to love Niklaus – as he loved her – and she would be happy with him. But what of Lucien and their child?

"Now, forget whatever troubles you," Rebekah tried to raise her future sister's spirits; it wouldn't bode well with Niklaus if he found Aurora in tears, "You are getting married in a week and you shall be the most beautiful bride ever!"

The thought lured a smile to Aurora's face – her tongue tasted salt on her lips.

Was she crying? Why on Earth would she cry? She was getting married in a week to a man who loved her.

Why was she crying?

* * *

He awoke utterly terrified and immensely hungry, gasping for breath.

 _He's in pain-he's in pain-there's blood-so much blood-he's_ _ **dying**_ _…_

But he found no trace of blood under his fingertips, no sign of wounds. There were no bruises on his skin, no marks of pain his mind remembered. The last thing he remembered… There had been pain, so much pain it had besmirched his sight and sucked the life out of him – literally.

 _He died. He is dead._

He didn't have the time to dwell on that thought, because a bright light close by drew his attention. Was he at the heaven's door?

Filled with fear, but unable to turn his gaze away, he tried to discern what lay behind the light. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust; there had been nothing but darkness in death – or nothing he could summon to mind. Gradually, his vision became clear, but it was no angel bathed in heaven's fire that awaited him. Lucien's eyes met Niklaus'; it was hard to tell who was more caught off guard by this turn of events.

"Niklaus…" Lucien's throat ached as he spoke, his voice hoarse as if it had been ages since he had last used it. "What…How?"

"I…" Klaus kept staring at Lucien wide-eyed, still unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

A man had come back from the dead. First Klaus' blood had healed him and now… Lucien was undoubtedly alive, even though he had just as undoubtedly died – his heart hadn't been beating when Klaus had carried his body out of the castle to burn it.

He took a dagger from his belt and approached the other man. Lucien stiffened, eyeing the dagger in panic, but before he could run, Klaus grabbed his hand and left a bloody mark on his palm.

The wound remained, but Lucien felt no pain at all.

"I…I feel nothing." He raised his eyes to Niklaus'; he had once believed he was like Niklaus and his siblings and paid for that false belief with his life. But what other explanation was there for what he was feeling (or not feeling)? "Am I… Am I truly like you now?"

Klaus took a deep breath, hesitating with his answer. They had made this same mistake once before. But he found that he could no longer smell Lucien's blood or hear the sound of his heartbeat.

"It would seem…" He began to nod, but then a thought came to his mind; he remembered his own awakening as this… _creature_ , and he knew what must be done.

"You must feed on blood." Even the word itself made his skin crawl with desire for it; he wasn't yet fully in control of his craving. He had to find someone to feed on, both to complete Lucien's transition and to quench his own hunger.

To his great relief, Lucien followed him with no questions asked, no protests voiced, as if he had expected him to utter just those words. They sneaked back into the castle, quieter than shadows. In the dead of night, it took a while for them to come across anyone; it happened to be a brown-haired servant girl.

Klaus turned to warn Lucien not to rush and to follow his lead, but he barely turned his head halfway before he sensed a shift in the air around him, even though there was no wind. Lucien surged past him, his teeth running into the servant girl's neck before she even managed to notice them. Blood spilled on the floor, on the walls; the girl was dead in a heartbeat, neck torn, eyes glazed, without having let out a single scream.

Blood tasted like heaven in Lucien's mouth, like air to a drowning man, like water to a man dying of thirst. His veins were as if filled with fire; his eyes saw as if it was the middle of the day, his sense of scent was better than of any of Count de Martel's hounds. His blood burned feverishly, but he'd never felt this divine, as if he could run for miles without getting tired, fly up to the clouds like a bird. His teeth bit the flesh eagerly, searching for more, more, _more_. He didn't stop drinking until the last drop; he _couldn't_.

"Lucien." Klaus forced Lucien apart from the dead servant girl – barely.

The other man's eyes were red like blood that dripped from the corners of his lips, his face filled with dark lines of veins pulsing beneath his skin. He was a monster both in looks and desires, just like Klaus – a creature of the night.

"It is…" There were no words that could describe this wonder, this sensation – never had anything tasted so sweet, so intense, so beautiful, so… red, red like… _her_ hair.

Aurora.

Klaus watched Lucien's features becoming human again, a feeling he couldn't define sparking in his now green eyes. They fell onto the lifeless corpse of the servant girl; if he was still alive, Lucien's heart would cease to beat right then and there. It was he who had done this; it was he who had taken her life away in his hunger. It made his breath catch, even though he felt no need for air at all. It had all seemed so meaningless while he had fed; her life, her fear, his guilt.

He was alive again, but at what cost? Was he like Tristan now, like Count de Martel, merciless and indifferent to sufferings of others? He couldn't be; he… he would never forgive himself if he was.

There was only one way to be certain, only one whom he would never allow any harm to come to, even from himself. Besides, she had to learn that he was, somehow, still among the living. She had to learn he was now faster, stronger than any ordinary man. They could run away together, like they had been planning to do for years, because he could finally take care of her. He could fulfil her heart's every desire, he could protect from anything and anyone who would do her harm.

He could _marry_ her and nobody could forbid it.

"Aurora." He breathed out, his lips curling into an excited smile he couldn't hide. "I must go to her, I must…"

Suddenly, it all became clear, as if a veil had been lifted from Klaus' eyes. Lucien's longing gazes. Aurora's broken-hearted tears. Long nights where neither of them could be found.

The child in Aurora's womb was Lucien's, he was sure of it as of the next sunrise.

But she would soon belong to Klaus. He would not share her with this _servant boy_.

"You cannot go to her." He grabbed Lucien's upper arms and pinned the other man against the wall behind his back. His tone was dark and commanding, blue eyes burning into green.

Lucien struggled for the briefest of moments, before sudden acceptance washed over him like rain. His body relaxed, as did his mind, and he couldn't escape this numbness.

"I cannot go to her." He repeated apathetically – but a part of him wondered: _Why?_

Klaus breathed in abruptly, taken aback by Lucien's reaction yet again. He had expected him to fight, to scream, to ignore him at least, but not this… blind obedience.

It reminded him of another night, of another soul who had fallen prey to his words, even if she had seemed adamant not to reveal her secrets. But she had let them slip so easily, once he had _commanded_ her so.

"You must run as far away from here as you can." His tone dropped to a hesitating whisper as he put one of his thoughts to a test. "You're dangerous to everyone here. Especially to her."

For a moment, Lucien's eyes widened, his features shaping a grimace as if his insides were being torn apart. But then he fell into to the same lethargy as before; despite his struggle, he couldn't defy Niklaus' words.

"I must run away." Of course he must – what if his bestial instincts took control over him in Aurora's presence? He was too dangerous to be near her.

Klaus stared at the man who held his beloved's heart; it pained him that it was Lucien, who had become the closest thing he had to a friend. He couldn't even blame him – he knew what it was like to get lost in the forests that were eyes of Aurora de Martel. But she was his now – or would soon be – and touching her would be a privilege bestowed only upon him. If he wished to ensure Lucien would never come between him and Aurora, he had to take extreme measures. The two lovers wouldn't easily let go of each other.

Could he do it? Could he kill the man who had helped his family so much, whom he had grown to like, just because he was a threat to his happiness?

"Forget Aurora." Niklaus whispered so quietly Lucien barely caught the words, even with his heightened senses. When he realized what they said, he tried to escape Niklaus' grasp, but his efforts were in vain. The other man's body was stronger and so was his will. "Forget you love her."

And so he did.

He left de Martel estate the same night, wondering what had kept him there for all those years, in a house filled with nothing but pain and humiliation. He was truly a fool to have borne it for so long – and for what? For whom?

 _For her._ It was an echo from a dream long forgotten.

He dreamed other dreams now, in the dark, for the sun burned him. He dreamed alone – grand, violent dreams. Dreams filled with blood – red dreams.

Red, always red. Like _her_.

* * *

Blood. There was blood everywhere.

She was dying, wasn't she? She would leave this world the same way her mother had, by bringing a child into it. There was irony in that, but it was nothing she didn't deserve.

But why did it have to hurt _so much_? It felt as if her flesh was being torn apart from inside out. Her lungs burned with screams she couldn't let out anymore, her arms and legs bathed in sticky blood. The darkness behind her eyelids was crimson red; it washed over her with every cry, cold like death's embrace.

Rebekah couldn't bear any more of her friend's screams. She couldn't bear the sight of so much blood any longer. She had to do something, before Aurora was lost to death – or Rebekah herself to bloodlust. Niklaus would never forgive her if she let his beloved wife die; but what _could_ she do?

 _Our blood can heal._ It was as if only yesterday Niklaus had shared in on the secret, even though it had been months. _But if one dies with it coursing through their veins, they become like us._

Rebekah wouldn't wish her craving for blood on anyone, but as she watched Aurora's cheeks becoming paler and listened to her heartbeat that was growing weaker with every passing moment, she felt the decision was being made for her. Every option was more acceptable than Aurora's _ultimate_ death; if she _did_ die, she would wake up as one of them. She would learn to live with the hunger, like they all had.

While the other women in the room (three servant-girls and two midwives) were busy getting water or trying to get Aurora to push once more so the child could be born (or just standing pale-faced in the corner), Rebekah leaned over her friend's face. She removed a long red lock that had been glued to Aurora's sweaty forehead, bit into her wrist and pressed it against Aurora's mouth. Aurora instinctively licked the liquid off her lips. For a moment, it seemed her breathing was finally pacifying and her heart stopped beating as wildly as it had, making Rebekah sigh in relief.

Then the pain came back, thousand times more intense than before.

Aurora's back arched in movements so unnatural she might have broken her spine. Her abdomen felt as if invaded by snakes that hissed and nibbled at her insides, their poison streaming through her blood. She screamed mindlessly as her body fell apart, only to be cruelly healed again when it wasn't supposed to be. She cried and she cursed, loudly and wordlessly – until she finally tumbled into darkness.

* * *

She woke up with one thought on her mind – _Lucien_.

He was like a dream she had dreamed once upon a time and then forgotten – until she had finally dreamed of him again. She had dreamed of green eyes filled with love as eternal as starlight. She had dreamed of a smile as warm as dawn's light. She had dreamed of arms as reassuring as stone walls, yet as gentle as breeze. How could she have ever forgotten him?

"Lucien?" Her eyelids were heavy, but she forced them open – only to find her husband on her left and her brother on her right, both as pale as marble.

"Aurora?" Tristan didn't even seem to notice her slip, too busy staring at her like he couldn't believe she had truly awakened.

He reached for his sister's hand, wanting – _needing_ – a proof she was truly awake, after hours of deep slumber that had seemed more like death. His brother and sister-in-law had chased away all the midwives and physicians he had sent, insisting Aurora would be fine after she had a bit of rest. As for Tristan's niece or nephew, de Guises claimed the child had been stillborn and they had got rid of the body before Tristan had even got the chance to lay his eyes on it. After a fiery argument with his in-laws, he had finally got to see Aurora and had been sitting at her side ever since, refusing to leave her in care of people who had cost her her child and almost her life.

Aurora moved to meet her brother's hand with her own, but was shaken to the core when sharp pain spread all over her abdomen. Instinctively, her hand went to her belly. At once, one feeling flooded her body and soul – _loss_.

"What happened?" Tristan watched helplessly as Aurora's green eyes filled with tears. "Where is my child?"

He couldn't bring himself to answer her. _She_ was alive and that was all that mattered to him, but he knew learning of her child's fate would break her. It would perhaps drive her to death's arms again; he couldn't allow that to happen.

"Rory, I'm so sorry." He moved to seat himself on her bed, taking both of her hands into his own. He couldn't care less that her husband was watching them; she needed comfort only _he_ could provide. "I'm so very sorry, my love."

She thought she could literally hear her heart breaking inside her chest. She wanted to scream again, like she remembered screaming at childbirth, but her body had no strength left for anything but tears. Glaze-eyed, she fell into Tristan's embrace, feeling his arms curling around her back and pulling her closer. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, seeking comfort in the familiar scent of his skin – until she smelled something else beneath.

It felt as if a dagger had been run into Tristan's neck, causing him to hiss like a snake. When he tried to separate himself from Aurora, he found that he _couldn't_. Her _teeth_ held onto him like a starving animal onto its prey and he felt himself growing weaker by the moment.

"Aurora." He growled lowly, for the loss of blood was already robbing him of strength. "Rory, please."

Klaus watched as Aurora fed in silence, pondering their options. Tristan's death would relive Klaus' greatest concern, since the young lord now knew of their secret (again). He could be compelled into forgetting everything, of course (which Klaus had made sure of once), but it seemed the effects of compulsion were only temporary. If Tristan were to die for good, it would be one less a threat to Klaus and Aurora's marriage. He was already suspicious of Klaus and his family and the part they had played in the death of Aurora's child (even if he believed the child had been Klaus') and now he was aware that his beloved sister had become one of them. If he let Tristan live, it wouldn't be long before Mikael appeared at de Martel estate, seeking his children's blood.

The sight of Aurora's tearstained face appeared in his mind uninvited. If Tristan died, by her own hand at that, Aurora would be inconsolable and her spirit utterly crushed. Klaus had taken so many lives trying to keep his family's secret, but could he really move forward through the rest of his immortal life always calculating whose life (or death) would benefit him and his family? Was he already so cold that he would let the woman he loved be haunted by this day for eternity?

Suddenly, Aurora's mouth was torn away from the vein like a babe from its mother's breast. Still seeing red, she hissed at the person who had dared interrupt her in her pleasure – until her eyes fell on Tristan's white face.

The red-eyed monster with dark veins tainting her face like spider web disappeared and in front of Tristan's eyes was once again his beloved sister, wide-eyed and scared. He tried to reach for her again, more afraid for her than for himself, but his head was turned by force in the direction of his brother-in-law. Niklaus' pupils were so wide they covered the blue of his irises nearly completely, his voice low and unyielding.

"Forget this." Nobody commanded Tristan de Martel, but he had no choice but to obey. "You made sure of Aurora's well-being and left. The baby died, but she is alright."

At those words, a sob bubbled out of Aurora's throat, the suffocating feeling of loss returning to squeeze the life out of her once again. All of a sudden, her (uncharacteristically strong) hands tore apart her nightgown and nails began clawing skin off her belly, drawing blood. Where was her child?! Where was it? _She_ was supposed to have died, not it! Where was it?!

"Aurora!" Somebody's hands grabbed her own and tried to prevent her from tearing her own weak body apart. Without pausing to think about it, she bit them.

"It was me!" She roared when the other pair of hands had dropped hers and she had released them from her bite. She continued to try to tear her skin open, so she could draw that broken heart out of her chest and crush it with her own two hands. " _I_ should have died! Kill me! _Kill me_!"

Stunned into silence, Klaus watched with a lump in his throat as his beloved drowned in madness in three different shades of red. She was bathed in mixture of dried blood and tears, but every wound she inflicted healed faster than she could create a new one. He didn't know what to do to help her, so he did the only thing he could to help himself – he _made_ her stop.

"Aurora." He called her name firmly as he towered above her, pinning her hands above her head and keeping her legs from hitting him by squeezing her thighs between his own. "Stop this madness."

Aurora's body went completely still beneath his.

Klaus let out a deep sigh of relief. His powers might have only a passing effect, but they were strong enough to keep whatever insanity had come over his wife at bay.

"It was you." It was a puzzle so easily solved now that she could think clearly. "You and your sister. You made me tell you of my child and she made me forget…"

Klaus didn't need her to finish that sentence to know what (or better said, who) lay inside her heart.

Aurora hadn't mentioned Lucien once during her marriage to Klaus, as if she had forgotten all about the servant-boy. It seemed Rebekah had accidentally compelled her memories of Lucien away. Klaus had shared his knowledge about another one of their inhuman abilities only with Elijah; Finn resented all their powers (known or unknown) and Kol would be too tempted to use it to cause even more mischief. He hadn't told Rebekah simply because he knew she wouldn't be able to help herself but share it with Kol.

As it were, Aurora's memories of Lucien would have to be compelled away again. Even though she was now like him and his siblings, she was still susceptible to Klaus' control. He loved his wife and he didn't want to lose her – and not even Lucien's child now stood in the way. The child had never even been born; it would remain trapped inside Aurora's body forever.

"Niklaus!"

Elijah appeared out of nowhere at Klaus' side, his brown eyes filled with urgency.

"We need to leave." There was only one thing that could scare Elijah senseless; Klaus sensed his blood growing cold. "Now."

Klaus turned his gaze to Aurora and opened his mouth to form an order she would have to obey, but paused when another hand grabbed his upper arm.

"We don't have time for this." Elijah didn't take his eyes off his brother's. They needed to flee before Father found them – just the five of them. Aurora, though now a part of their family through marriage, was not of their blood.

Klaus couldn't believe his own ears; was his brother truly proposing that he left the woman he loved behind like a lamb to be slaughtered?

"She's my wife!" He protested fiercely, ignoring said wife's fiery attempts to escape his grasp. "I won't leave her at Mikael's mercy!"

"I would rather die than go anywhere with you!" Aurora growled at him with all the hatred she held for him and his family, who had cost her so much.

She tried to rouse out of his hold, but he wouldn't yield. She tried to bite him again, but he was out of reach. Klaus ignored his brother's warning gaze and lowered his head to Aurora's until their noses touched.

"You need to come with us." He told her firmly, not because he wanted to hurt her by ripping her away from her home and family, but because he wanted to save her. "You can't imagine the danger you'd be in if you stayed."

Aurora was suddenly aware she _had to_ come with Niklaus. She would be safe with him – but what about…

"And Tristan?" She demanded, her voice trembling. If that monster – Mikael, Niklaus had called it – harmed her brother while she ran away, she would never forgive herself. "I can't leave him, he's…"

"I'll deal with that." Elijah was suddenly on his feet, already walking away from them. "Rebekah is waiting for you outside." He called over his shoulder to Klaus before disappearing into thin air.

"Come on." Klaus pulled Aurora to her feet and then ran to her closet. He dug briefly through her clothes and handed her a clean dress to replace the one she was wearing that was covered in more blood than a human could afford to lose. "Get changed. We don't have much time."

"Niklaus, who…"

"I'll explain everything later, I promise." He tried to pull the dress off her shoulders, but she held it pressed against her chest, like a shy bride on her wedding night.

"You and your family have cost me things most precious to me." Lucien, her child and now Tristan; how much did he think he could take away before he suffered any consequences for his crimes? "I deserve to know why."

It was the easiest answer in the world, but he had no time to get her to believe it the right way. He had to _make_ her believe it.

Suddenly, his hands were pressed against her temples, his eyes burning into hers.

"Because I love you." He promised and it was the truth. "You trust me, because you know that everything I do, I do because I love you."

She ran away with his hand in hers that same night, leaving the life she had known behind, because he'd asked her to. From that day on, starlight was cold against her skin and sunlight burned her. There was a craving that consumed nearly her every thought; once her teeth sunk into someone's neck, it was nearly impossible to stop. It felt almost as blissful as being in love.

Since her only love was lost to her, blood was all she had left.

A sinking feeling lingered in her stomach, never truly leaving her, not even when she fed. She buried it deep beneath the bloodlust, let the voices inside her mind (which had grown louder and more persuasive since her transformation into this… _creature_ ) suppress it. She told herself it was longing for Lucien and sorrow over his death she was feeling, but while the memories of Lucien could be drowned in blood, this… _ache_ could not, no matter how hard she tried.

Sometimes she thought it was her unborn child calling out to her.

Only someone as mad with grief as her could come up with such an idea.


End file.
